


soldiers to guard and keep you company

by SiriCerasi



Series: storms & saints [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Community: hc_bingo, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gideon is So Done With Len, Hurt Nyssa, Kendra is a good bro, Len and Sara threaten him out of it, Len is a little bundle of guilt, Nyssa is a Little Shit, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, POV Leonard Snart, POV Sara Lance, Panic Attacks, Poison, Protection, Protective Sara, Ra's al Ghul's A+ Parenting, Rip tries to do good, hurt sara, time travel causalities make my brain hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8815606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriCerasi/pseuds/SiriCerasi
Summary: Sometimes Sara protects, and sometimes she needs protection.Part 1: Little Nyssa is wounded, and Sara remembers the story. Part 2: Sara is wounded. Len doesn't take it well.Written for my hc_bingo fill "protection".





	1. malak al-abyad

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially part of [Child, Be Still](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7752808) but I've decided it works better as a stand-alone side fic, so here it is. Set after the main events of 1x10 "Progeny" (i.e. 2147 & child Hitler) but before Mick's change of heart. It fits after ch 14 of CBS.
> 
> [soldiers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWhm-H7M8Us) (ben howard)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"So we meet again, Taer al-Sahfer. And you've brought me something precious."_
> 
> Or, Sara finds Nyssa throughout time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italic quotes are spoken in Arabic.
> 
> Somewhat graphic description of arrow wound treatment, but not extensive.

_**xxx** _

_words were ours: that we'll never be harmed_

_**xxx** _

**GILGIT, PAKISTAN (1993)**

Sara supposes it shouldn't surprise her that Savage had a palace so close to Nanda Parbat; in her experience, power tends to draw others of the same ilk together. She doubts Savage could've resisted looking for the city, once the rumors of its existence had begun to spread; she thinks of him and Ra's together and shudders. Insinuating himself into Ra's' close circle may have been harder than Savage had expected, Sara muses - certainly harder than normal kings and other power figures they know Savage has been drawn to. She hasn't seen enough of Savage's fighting style to know if he'd been League trained, but she supposes it's possible. More likely, though, he and Ra's had orbited each other like planets, drawn together but never quite touching.

Still, it's disconcerting to travel to places she knows so well from her days at the League and think of Savage walking those same paths. She doubts he knows the rooftops; she could travel those blindfolded in the dark, and had, many times, training with Nyssa. Gilgit was home to the closest airport to Nanda Parbat and had been under League protection for hundreds of years, along with dozens of nearby villages.

Luckily, Savage's fort and the surrounding village of Karimabad had always been just far enough to prevent any casual day journeys, and boring enough that Sara had only visited on League business. She knows Nyssa has been there, though; Nyssa had probably traveled every inch of the land for hundreds of miles by the time she was ten. The thought of her in Savage's home, ancient or no, makes Sara's skin crawl.

It's mid-July, the height of the short, intense summers she remembers so well. The sun is intense, the heat distracting her from Rip's discussion - not that it's hard to do.

"...Miss Lance, are you paying any attention?" Sara blinks, turning to him. After parking the Waverider on the outskirts of Gilgit, they'd taken the jumpship to the border of Karimabad, several miles away from Savage's Baltit Fort. After lying abandoned for 50 years, someone had put money into reconstruction efforts; Gideon had found mention of Savage in a survey review of the findings at the Fort. The artifacts discovered are still on site, awaiting analysis; their job is to get Kendra close enough to see if any of them could be used in place of the dagger. It's a long shot, but the danger factor is low, so it's worth a try.

"Fort. Kendra. Artifact. Got it." Rip rolls his eyes so hard it must hurt, and Sara cuts him off before he speaks. "Look, this is my League playground. I got it."

"Somehow, that's not reassuring." Sara smiles crookedly, and only bares her teeth a little. It was his idea to come here, not hers, so if they're all still terrified of her - well, they should be.

**_xxx_ **

_you watch me steady_  
_you watch me with such a quiet sincerity_

_xxx_

In retrospect, she should've put it together the moment they arrived here, the moment her feet touched this familiar ground.

"Miss Lance - Sara, you _can't_ -" Rip stands between her and the hot desert air, the summer sun glaring down in the way it only can on the high plateaus Sara knows so well.

"I already did," she snaps. She pushes around him, hears the click of his revolver and feels its press against her side, feels the bloodlust surge, hungry and raging.

"You don't want to do that," she states, voice deadly calm. She would regret killing Rip, she knows she would, and it's the only thing that keeps her from snapping.

Then she hears the whine of the cold gun, and Snart's voice say almost as coldly, "You really don't." Rip backs down, holding up his hands and letting Snart grab his gun.

"This is a mistake, Sara."

She stares him down, letting the bloodlust play on her face, and bares her teeth as he looks away. "It was nearly your last."

**_xxx_ **

_you hold me heavy_  
_you hold me like I was born to be held_

**_xxx_ **

Nyssa is not hard to find; she's bleeding and delirious, but had still made her way to a small rocky outcrop. Sara finds her passed out in the shade, and for one horrible moment fears she's dead.

But no, Sara's fingers find her pulse, faint and rapid. And then small fingers grip her wrist, weak and calloused and not-quite-Nyssa. Sara can't help smiling.

" _It's alright, beloved_ ," she murmurs, shifting to shield Nyssa from the bits of sun that slip through the rocky cracks. _"I'm here to help you, not harm you."_

 _"I don't need your help,"_ the girl growls, or tries to growl. It's weak and shaky and so Nyssa that Sara nearly laughs.

 _"You have been poisoned,"_ she says instead, gently slipping her hand from Nyssa's fading grip. _"You are wounded, dehydrated, and lost."_

 _"I am not lost,"_ Nyssa says stubbornly. Her eyes have trouble focusing, and she squints at Sara blearily. _"I am waiting."_

_"For your father, yes, but he will not make it in time."_

_"What do you know of my father?"_ Nyssa tries to push herself up, but she's too weak, and her arms collapse. She falls back to the rock with a cry, falling on the wound in her side where the arrow is still in her flesh, and Sara instinctively reaches for her. That cry would call her anywhere.

 _"Easy, Nyssa,"_ she breathes, carefully helping her to sit and lean back against a rock.

 _"How do you know my name?"_ Her words are slurred, eyes dazed and bright, but she still manages to stay lucid.

Sara purses her lips, thinking back on the story Nyssa had told her, of dreaming of Sara before she'd met her. She hadn't given many details, unfortunately, and Sara sighs.

 _"I know that you are Nyssa al Ghul, daughter of Ra's al Ghul,"_ she finally says. She holds out a water bottle to Nyssa, who narrows her eyes at Sara and doesn't take it. _"Really, Nys, if I was going to kill you I'd've done it by now."_

_"How dare you call me that? I am-"_

_"Heir to the Demon, yeah. You know, I forgot how annoying you can be about that."_ Nyssa stares. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, and then her eyes roll up and she slumps back. "Dammit," Sara mutters. She checks Nyssa's pulse; still weak, but there. She slowly dribbles water into Nyssa's mouth while checking the wound on her side, relieved to see the arrow had gone clean through. The scar is one she's familiar with, in twenty years' time. It seems the poison is the only real threat.

Sara pulls Gideon's dose from her pack, then hits her comms with a quick glance at Nyssa.

"Gideon, will this knock her out?" she asks quietly.

"It is intended only as a antidote to the poison, Miss Lance. It has no sedative properties."

"Dammit," Sara mutters. "Okay, Nys, I'd better give this to you before I patch you up. Here's to hoping there's no side effects."

"Actually, the statistical probability-"

"Gideon," Sara growls around the plastic needle cap in her mouth. She sticks it into Nyssa's arm, marveling at her smooth, unmarked skin (angry over the scars she already has). And then she holds her breath, waiting, continuing to dribble as much water as she can down Nyssa's throat. When ten minutes have passed with little reaction, Sara sighs with relief. A hand to Nyssa's forehead finds her slightly cooler, although still clammy.

"Alright, time to clean you up," she tells her sleeping beloved. "At least to hold you until Ra's gets here."

"Miss Lance, forgive the question, but how is Ra's going to find her?"

Sara tears the fabric of Nyssa's shirt away carefully, answers absently, "I'm going to take her to him." There's a silence, and Sara wonders if maybe she'd just overloaded Gideon's brain.

"I... see."

Sara chews her lip, glancing at Nyssa's unconscious face; she needs to disinfect this, and she doubts Nyssa will sleep through that. "That gonna be a problem, Gideon?" she asks mildly as she carefully slips one of Nyssa's gloves between her teeth, taking a slow breath. And then she pours alcohol into the wound around the arrow and Nyssa is _screaming_ , body jerking against Sara's hold on her shoulder, eyes wide and dark with pain. Sara takes Nyssa's face in her hands, pressing their foreheads together, and whispers, _"It's alright, beloved. You'll be alright, shh. You're stronger than the pain."_ She brushes at Nyssa's tears gently as the girl passes out again, then carefully leans her back against the rock.

"I don't believe so," Gideon answers. Sara wipes her eyes with shaking fingers.

**_xxx_ **

_but if this goes wrong again  
if this is how it was meant to fall_

**_xxx_ **

She's covered in a long robe, hood pulled far over her face, when she finds Ra's at the edge of town.

" _Ra's al Ghul!_ " There are suddenly a dozen arrows and twice as many swords pointed toward her, and the girl in her arms.

" _Hold_!" Ra's steps forward, one hand raised, as he covers the distance between them slowly, one hand resting on his sword. Nyssa is cradled to Sara's chest, head resting on her shoulder, arrow still protruding from her side. Sara hadn't dared remove it without any safe way of stopping the bleeding. When Ra's is close enough Sara lifts her head, letting him see her face, and he immediately orders, " _Lower your weapons_."

Sara steps forward, dipping her head, and Ra's smiles. " _So we meet again, Taer al-Sahfer. And you've brought me something precious."_ He holds out his arms and Sara hesitates only a moment before handing Nyssa to him, brushing the hair back from her pale face.

 _"She will live,"_ Sara says, taking a step back to study him. He is harder than the man she'd spent two years with in 1958, but not yet the maniac who will hurt Nyssa so badly. _"She was poisoned; you will not be able to identify the antidote used to cure her. Please do not try."_ Ra's dips his head in assent.

 _"It seems Nyssa is to need you as much as you will need her,"_ he observes, and there's a softness in his eyes that Sara doesn't remember seeing before.

 _"She needs you as well,"_ she says, words slipping from her mouth before she can stop them. _"You are Ra's, but you are also her father."_ His eyes snap to her, hardening, but Sara doesn't back down. He is no longer her Ra's; that is Nyssa, if anyone, and technically the League no longer exists.

 _"I can see why you two will get along,"_ he finally says. Sara smiles. She steps forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Nyssa's forehead, and whispers, _"Until we meet again, beloved."_

She's a few steps away when she hears Ra's ask, _"Will she remember this?"_

Sara turns slowly, hood already back in place; it is close enough to 1960 that some members might still recognize her. _"She calls me her white angel,"_ she answers, and then she's gone.

_**xxx** _

_will you pretend that you know_  
_steady as the morning and just go_

_**xxx** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have Len, if you were wondering =)
> 
> * _malak al-abyad_ is the best translation I can find for "white angel"
> 
> **Nerd Note, bc anthro/geography are what I do: There's no definite location for Nanda Parbat, but we know it's in the Hindu Kush. Gilgit is one of the larger cities inside the mountain range and features an airport for all your assassin travel needs, and is also not far from Wakhan Corridor, a natural pass used for trade in antiquity (on the Silk Road), for your pre-modern assassin needs. Baltit Fort is 700 years old and about 100km north of Gilgit, in a small town called Karimabad. The fort was restored from 1990-1996, and thus fit so nicely into my timeline it's a little creepy and maybe Vandal Savage did use it idk.


	2. cold in life's throes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The next thing he knows he's trying to keep a hyper-focused assassin from murdering their timemaster captain in order to save her ninja ex-girlfriend from dying while she's just a kid._
> 
> _Sometimes Leonard questions his life choices._
> 
> Or, Sara and sharp objects don't always get along because sometimes your OTP has to fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [silver and cold](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BguZZ3rGKe0) (A.F.I.)

_**xxx** _

_i came here by day, but i left here in darkness  
and found you on the way_

_**xxx** _

Snart has started to think of Sara as invincible; not even death could hold her down. But he learns how horribly wrong he is on what should be their simplest mission, because of course it goes sideways.

Savage's home here is an actual castle. Because of _course_ it is. It looks like it's been used on and off for centuries, although Gideon claims it hasn't been occupied since 1945. Luckily for them - and he _hates_ himself a little for even _thinking_ this - surveillance has improved significantly since then. Plus, historical restorations usually result in incredibly detailed floorplans, accurate enough to satisfy even his own obsessive mind.

But - it feels like Savage's homeground, and Leonard instantly has a bad feeling about this plan. Attacking an enemy on his own turf - Basic Criminal Don'ts 101, if you can help it.

But Rip is Rip, so here they are. All they're here for is a replacement for the dagger; even their Captain had realized going after Savage here was suicide. Palmer does recon - at least that incredible shrinking suit is good for something - and Leonard studies the quickly drawn up floorplans Gideon had found. Savage is far more careful after 1958 and 1975, which means that if there's anything of value here, it's probably well-guarded.

He almost tells Rip to call it off; this _feeling_ that things are off won't go away, and he's learned to trust his gut on matters such as these. It doesn't feel like a trap, exactly, but if they accidentally run into Savage here… He's has had 4000 years to get to know this palace, and no matter how good Len is, he can't beat that.

But then Sara overhears a couple men speaking in Arabic as they scout the nearby town, and the next thing he knows he's trying to keep a hyper-focused assassin from murdering their timemaster captain in order to save her ninja ex-girlfriend from dying while she's just a kid.

Sometimes Leonard questions his life choices.

When she returns, conspicuously lacking any small assassin sidekick, he thinks maybe that's what had seemed wrong. Maybe time had felt wrong until Sara had saved Nyssa (again? Already?).

He really needs to learn to trust his gut.

Sara goes down suddenly, quietly, so fast he nearly misses it. One minute she has his back, fighting guards that seem to appear out of nowhere, and the next that _feeling_ returns, screaming WRONG into his head so loudly he flinches. There are two men coming at him and the momentary distraction costs him precious time, leaving one of the men with just enough opening to-

He falls with a knife in his eye. Leonard turns, smirking, words about having his back dying on his lips when he sees her slumped against the wall.

"SARA." He can't get enough air into his lungs. He's at her side and there's an entire fucking sword through her stomach, nearly to the hilt, red already soaked through half her suit and blood doesn't make him dizzy, never has, but his head is spinning so hard he has to steady himself against the wall. Her hands press weakly around the metal sticking from her gut, a pathetic cover for that gaping hole, and his hands cover hers because pathetic is better than nothing and she's so pale and his hands are so red-

"Snart, move!" Palmer. He'd been screaming for Ray, he remembers vaguely, and before he even registers moving they're both gone, leaving only a crimson pool behind. It's too big, far too big. His hands are coated, sticky, shaking, and all he can do is stare at them. He's lucky all the guards are incapacitated or dead, because he doubts he could've stopped a child right now.

There's a rush of air beside him - Kendra, his brain registers. "We need to go," is all she says, but her voice is gentler than usual, and despite her words she kneels down to tear a clean strip of fabric from one of the downed men. It doesn't get rid of all the blood, but enough that he can stand to look up.

"We need to go," Kendra says again. Her urgency translates into a frenzy of wings that leaves him stumbling behind, boots slipping in blood, footprints leaving pieces of Sara behind. He nearly stops, nearly wrenches the shoes from his feet, but the rest of Sara is fading into the distance and he _needs_ to follow. One foot in front of the other. Don't look at the ground. Don't look behind. One step, two, three four five.

He gets to six hundred and three, and the imprints are still red.

_**xxx** _

_and now, it is silver and silent_

_**xxx** _

It's two days before Sara wakes up, two of the longest days of Leonard's life. They'd nearly lost her twice before he even got back to the ship with Kendra, cursing the minutes it'd taken to run to the jumpship, to fly back to the Waverider, to dash through the hallways half-blind with something he refuses to call tears.

Rip had tried to keep him out of the medbay, until Gideon had sharply ordered everyone out but Leonard. He's never actually heard the AI give orders before, and Rip just looks so shocked he obeys before he realizes it. Leonard collapses into the chair beside her pale form, slipping his fingers through hers. They're both still sticky with blood.

"Sara, please," he whispers. He's not sure exactly what Gideon is doing, but there's glowing light scanning across Sara's body, still clothed in torn and crimson white. The sword is gone, and she hasn't bled out, so Leonard assumes Gideon has at least had some success. Still, his voice is an octave to high when he chokes out, "Gideon?" and her pause is long enough that he nearly throws up from worry.

"I have stabilized her for the moment," comes the clipped answer. "Please carefully cut away the material surrounding the wound."

He looks at his trembling hands and starts to shake his head. "I can't. I'll… I'll just hurt her more."

"Then she'll die." It's like a punch in the gut, and he staggers, doubling over, every bit of air knocked out of him. "Even unconscious, she seems to be somehow aware of her surroundings. On some basic level, her body reacts to the people here, and until you arrived, I couldn't stabilize her. She doesn't trust the others enough; it must be you."

She's going to die, and it's going to be his fault.

He does the only logical thing he can think of and tears off his boots, hurling them at the wall, crouching down with his hands laced over his head, shaking shaking shaking. He can't breathe, can't see, the world spinning behind closed eyes and he's still there, still watching Sara hang limply in Ray's arms as they fade into the distance and-

"Kendra," he whispers. The guilt leaves him nearly speechless, but he manages, "Kendra."

Gideon says nothing, but a few moments later the door slides open and Kendra hurries to the bed, a soft gasp escaping. Her eyes flick to Leonard, huddled on the floor, and the worry in them hardens into conviction.

"Gideon told me what I need to do," she says evenly, hands steady as stone when she presses one to his shoulder before turning back to Sara. There's a steady sound of metal slicing through fabric and Leonard lowers his head between his knees, struggling to breathe, to keep the world from spinning out. "What about the back?" he hears Kendra ask through what seems like cotton in his ears.

"I need to heal what I can before you move her," comes Gideon's reply. "Luckily, the sword passed through cleanly. I may need you to remove fragments of her suit, however." Kendra murmurs an affirmative, and he hears the sound of running water as she cleans her hands.

He wants to raise his head. He wants to look at Sara, wants to see her chest rise and fall with proof of life. But then he'll see the pallor of her face, the blood dried on her skin. He'll see cuts and slices reminding him of what he couldn't do.

Kendra's steps approach him, hesitant, and he doesn't have it in him to feel embarrassed. She says nothing, just presses a hand gently to his shoulder. Together they wait.

_**xxx** _

_it is silver and cold_

_**xxx** _

He leaves the moment Gideon tells them she could regain consciousness at any moment.

He can't face her, knowing how badly he'd failed her. _Twice_. She'd been injured under his watch, and he'd been too weak to even help fix what he'd caused.

Kendra looks like she might protest, but a glance at his face and the words die. Sara will have her, he tells himself. She won't wake up alone. That's what matters.

He returns to his room for the first time in two days, crawls under the blankets, and pretends to sleep. He keeps Sara's vitals open on the screen beside his bed, eventually setting them to alert him to the slightest change when his eyelids refuse to stay open any longer. He's vaguely aware of Gideon turning the lights off, and he means to protest, but even voicing that much is suddenly impossibly hard, and he can't remember what he was going to say, and the world fades to a creeping darkness tinged with red on white and the flutter of wings.

_**xxx** _

_you in somber resplendence, i hold_

_**xxx** _

Sara wonders for a moment if she's dead, again.

But no, her blurry vision focuses slowly on the form beside her bed. Not Leonard - she'd been sure he was here - but Kendra, looking nearly as bad as Sara feels.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she greets with a weary smile. "How you feeling?"

"Ow." She shifts, then winces; every small movement is agony. "Ow?" Kendra glances toward the medical cabinets, and Sara sees the medical bracelet pulse a few times and it must do something, because the pain eases almost instantly. "Less ow," she mumbles. "How long w's I out?"

"Two days." Kendra rubs her eyes; Sara doubt's she's slept. "Thought we lost you a few times."

"Sh'd know 'm not that easy t'kill," Sara slurs. Her mind feels like it's floating. "Len w's here?" She didn't mean to ask that. Kendra's forehead creases.

"He was. He was with you the whole time. Only left a few minutes ago."

That... hurts. " _Why_?" she demands, although it comes out more pathetic than anything.

"I think he feels responsible."

Sara groans. "'m g'nna kill 'im. Idiot." Kendra smiles faintly, but her face is starting to blur.

"After you've recovered, you're quite welcome to."

_**xxx** _

_your sins into me_

_**xxx** _

Shockingly, it's Ray who finally comes to see him.

Gideon overrides his initial demand for the door to be left closed, because of course she does. Palmer edges hesitantly into the room; Leonard stares at the ceiling and ignores him.

There's a few minutes of tense silence, one Len is not about to ease. He's grateful to the man for saving Sara's life, but beyond that, the echo of angry words have yet to fade. It may have been years for Ray, but Len doesn't have the benefit of that distance.

"You saved her life, you know," Ray says suddenly into the silence. "I couldn't get to you for a few minutes after you told us Sara was down. If you hadn't kept pressure on the wound, she'd be dead." Minutes? It had felt like seconds. "Look, I know things have been… tense, since Mick…" Ray swallows, and normally Len would press his discomfort relentlessly, but today he's just too damned worn.

"Anyway, I've had two years to think about it. Even before we knew Mick was still alive." Mick is the _last_ thing Len wants to be thinking about right now. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You probably saved all our lives that day. You saved Mick's life, and Jax's in 1958, and Sara's the other day. I know you'd probably ice me for calling you a hero, but…"

That drags a weak chuckle out of Len, much to both their surprise. "At the very least, you're a good teammate," Ray finishes. "And I know Sara will want to see you, and Sara… tends to get what she wants. One way or at knifepoint."

Len may not like him, but he does have a point.

_**xxx** _

_i will tremble a prayer_  
_and I'll beg for forgiveness_

_**xxx** _

"Gideon, tell Snart that if he doesn't get his ass in here I'm going to try to walk to his room and will probably die on the way."

Sara is not in the mood for subtle.

He shows up a few minutes later, looking somehow even worse than she feels. He looks the way he had after Mick, and the thought makes Sara feel sick.

"The hell's goin' on with you?" she demands, before he even makes it through the doorway. He pauses midstep, and for a moment she thinks he's going to turn around and leave, but he takes a slow breath and moves to sit in the chair beside her. "Len." He won't look at her.

She gives a growl of frustration, slowly pushing herself up to a seated position, trying not to wince. He reacts to that, gaze immediately laser focused on her, hands half-raised and twitching before he swallows, settling back. "Why are you being an idiot?" she asks matter-of-factly. He blinks.

"How can you ask that?" His voice is strained, halfway to tears. Sara rubs her forehead, trying to think around the painkillers in her system.

"Cause you weren't here."

He flinches, and she mentally kicks herself. She hadn't meant for it to sound so accusatory, hadn't meant to add to the anguish on his face.

"Didn't think you'd want me to be." He still won't fucking _look_ at her, and Sara groans, carefully resting her elbows on her knees, head in her hands.

"Len, thinking hurts right now. Explain. Clearly." There's no answer, and she lowers one hand to tilt her head, looking at him. His eyes are very bright and he's staring almost shell-shocked at where the sword had gone in. " _Len_."

"It's my fault," he finally whispers, eyes still fixed on her side. "Should've had your back."

For someone who claims to care about nothing and no one, he certainly carries a great deal of guilt. And while Sara is sure he's guilty of many things, this isn't one of them.

"You did," she says firmly, shifting with a wince to face him better. "You kept me alive till Ray came. You saved my life."

"Sword in your stomach said otherwise."

Sara sighs, swaying a little; even sitting for this short period of time has exhausted her. The damage must've been more extensive than she'd thought. "Len, you know I can handle myself," she says pointedly. "What happened today, and when Savage grabbed me... that was my fault. I was..." She fades, grimacing, and Len finally looks at her. He reaches for her when she wavers, but pulls back before touching her again, as though he might break her. It's... almost sweet, and she knows his head is in a bad place right now, but it's _annoying_.

"Not gonna break," she says shortly. He sucks in a breath, ragged and shuddering, and Sara instantly regrets her tone. She grabs his hand when he stands, can feel him trembling. "Sorry. Pain makes me cranky."

He huffs a laugh at that, or maybe it's a sob. But he sits back down, slowly, still looking like a kicked puppy. Sara doesn't let go of his hand.

"I hesitated," she finally says quietly. "Just a moment, but it was enough. This time. When Savage grabbed me. Hell, when Mick was trying to kill me." His expression darkens, fingers tightening around hers, thumb rubbing absently along her skin. He's finally looking at her, but now she can't return his gaze. "I'm still trying to... figure out what I am. What I want to be. What I want to... do."

The pain is strong enough now that she hisses, hunching over a little. Len grabs her shoulder with his free hand, says sharply, "Gideon, she's in pain."

Even as Sara shakes her head, Gideon responds, "She's already at the highest level of pain medication she's requested I allow." He's standing now, hovering over her, gaze piercing.

"Messes with my head," Sara explains, clenching her teeth against another pang. "Need to be able to function. It'll pass, I've-" She cuts off with a whimper she can't quite swallow, nails of her free hand digging into her palm. "Been through worse," she manages.

"Yeah, so have I, but it doesn't mean you have to suffer now," he growls. She starts to shake her head, regretting it as a wave of nausea hits her and the world spins behind closed eyes. She clutches his hand harder, feels his fingers tighten on her shoulder. "Sara, the whole point of being on a team is having people to watch your back. You don't think the rest of us together can keep you safe while you recover?"

He's a sneaky bastard, she thinks irritably, throwing her own words back at her. He's still upset, probably still thinks this is fault; she can't say no without hurting him.

"Ugh, you..." She manages to pout up at him, and his haggard face softens with a little smirk. "Brat," she mutters.

He doesn't look the least bit apologetic, just says, "Gideon, I think your patient is feeling more compliant now."

"Excellent." Sara feels an immediate rush, and can't help sighing in relief as the pain begins to ebb. Len slowly releases her shoulder as she lean back into the chair, but when he goes to let go of her hand Sara just tightens her grip.

"And you say I'm the idiot," he sighs, sitting back down. He gestures at her side, swallowing hard. "Is it...?"

"Almost healed." She tugs up the loose shirt she's wearing, and the bandage beneath. It's still red and bruised and terribly sensitive, but the wound is fully closed. His eyes fix on it, even after she lowers her shirt, the way they had on her arm when Mick had burned her. As though he could heal her just by staring.

Then he looks down, pulling from her grip to stare at his hands. "I couldn't help." His voice is so small. "Gideon needed me to cut away your suit but I..." He closes his eyes, fingers curling into fists. "My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I couldn't…" Sara's heart breaks a little at the anguished expression on his face.

She's silent for a moment, considering. She's sure by now he's heard it wasn't his fault from everyone, and it's clearly made no difference. It's a guilt she understands far too well.

He opens his eyes when she shifts, tilting her head to meet his gaze. There's a raw vulnerability there, one Sara isn't sure she deserves to be trusted with, one she doubts he'd ever admit to. But he deserves something from her. Even if remembering is still acrid guilt in her throat.

She takes a slow breath, finally starts, "The first time Nyssa was wounded when we were on assignment together, she took a nasty knife cut to her thigh. Not too deep but bled like crazy." She remembers red hands, and fevered thoughts. "When I went to stitch her up, something I'd done a thousand times on others, even on Nyssa during training - I couldn't. There was so much blood, _Nyssa's_ blood, and all I could think about was losing her. Losing the one good thing to happen to me in years, the one good thing I had left."

She can still _feel_ that panic, the despair that had crushed her lungs and set her gasping. The guilt and shame, after, so hot in her chest she'd thought she might burn a hole into the ground to disappear in. "My hands were shaking so bad Nyssa finally just took the needle and stitched up her own damn leg." Len laughs, on the edge of hysterical, and Sara reaches out with a half-smile to cover his hands with hers. "Happens to the best of us," she tells him, somewhere between kind and impatient.

"You saying you're the best, Lance?"

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm very hard to kill."

"Like a cockroach."

"Did you just call me a _cockroach?_ " He holds up his hands in mock defense, but his eyes aren't quite so haunted, so she supposes she can swallow the insult.

"Maybe a cat," he drawls. "Nine lives and all."

Sara rolls her eyes, leaning back into the chair with an exaggerated groan. "I don't want to think about how many of those I've burned through already."

"Neither do I."

He sounds too sad again.

Sara hums, eyeing the door, and whispers loudly, "So, are you breaking me out or what?" His lips twitch.

"I'm usually more of a breaking-in kind of guy." Sara pouts, and he sighs, shaking his head. "I guess I could make an exception. If Gideon's okay with it."

"It's not breaking out if you ask the jailer first."

He gives her a sharp look, voice just a shade too serious when he answers, "Humor me."

"Miss Lance is confined to bed-rest, but there is no reason it has to be here."

"Really, _now_ you tell me?" Sara glares at the ceiling.

"You are also not to walk, run, jump, or bear any kind of weight on your legs for at least two more days. You really shouldn't even be sitting for more than a few minutes at a time."

Sara hears a strange sound, and looks down to find Leonard… _laughing_. Trying very hard to cover it, but… "You think that's funny?" she demands, and he laughs harder.

"You have to give her credit for covering her bases with you," he eventually manages. "You've trained her well."

"Ugh." She yanks the med bracelet from her wrist and throws it at him. "Just get me out of here."

_**xxx** _

_i will paint you in silver  
i will wrap you in cold_

_**xxx** _

He lasts four minutes into a movie before he's asleep.

Sara is surprised he made it that long.

She sighs, tugging the blankets up higher around him, and says quietly, "Gideon, turn that off, please." There's immediate silence, and the lights dim before Sara can ask. She frowns, looking sharply up at the ceiling. "Am I really on bedrest for two days?"

Gideon pauses just a moment too long. "One of you is."

Sara shakes her head, but she can't find it in herself to be upset with Gideon for looking out for him. Clearly someone has to, when he refuses to do it himself.

She sighs again, then settles down into the pillows, lightly grazing her fingers along Len's arm when he shifts in his sleep. There are still enormous shadows under his eyes, but some of the lines of tension have faded, and he might even look human again when he wakes up.

"You're an idiot," she tells him fondly.

Gideon will forever swear it's false, but Sara _knows_ she hears a very faint, "I agree."

_**xxx** _

_i will lift up your voice as i sink_

_**xxx** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *is alive*


End file.
